She’s not playing hide-and-seek. She’s hunting.😈

Chapter 1 She's from the Asylum

[Welcome to Round 44 of Global Hide-and-Seek. Today's instance: Rose Manor.]

[Participants for this round are in position. Players, take note — once the game begins, you'll have thirty minutes to hide.]

[After thirty minutes, the Wraiths will enter the field and begin the hunt. Hunting window: three hours.]

[If caught, you die.]

[Your home nation will lose one region to a Wraith invasion.]

[Survivors will receive rewards.]

[Countdown begins now.]

Lyra Vance froze. She glanced down at herself — still in the same hospital gown, white with blue stripes, slippers on her feet.

Then she looked up at the crowd around her — every skin tone imaginable, jabbering in languages she couldn't understand, faces twisted with panic and despair.

When the strange voice finished, a door appeared out of nowhere on the open ground, and everyone surged through it.

What was going on? Lyra felt completely lost.

*****

Draconia. Strategic Game Command Center.

On the enormous screen, livestream feeds of every participant popped up at once. In the column marked 'Draconia,' a girl in a hospital gown stood at the instance entrance, glancing around, her hair a mess, a dazed look on her face.

The chat exploded.

WhenWillTheyDie: [We're done we're done we're done.]

DontHitMe: [Who did we draw this time?! Lyra — a little girl?]

DetailFreak: [Is she wearing... a hospital gown?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Draconia's down to twelve regions. Lose another and where the hell do we squeeze in?]

NutrientGooSucks: [Can we please get a swap? Game gods, I'm begging you.]

PickMeGame: [Forty-three rounds in, we've already lost twenty-two regions. Looks like number twenty-three drops today.]

momo: [I am so sick of you people. Whoever gets drawn is fighting for the country. You can't cheer for her, fine — don't go breaking her down. And girls have pulled it off before.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. If these players hadn't won us living space, we'd still be holed up underground. No gratitude, get out.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Still, she's in a hospital gown. The debuffs are maxed out.]

LuckyKoi: [Heavens above, please send every drop of my luck to this player.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Hilarious. Aurelia drew a special-forces operative, already scouting the terrain. Ours is still spacing out. Thank God my emigration application went through. I'm out of here.]

GoDraconia: [Traitor. Get lost.]

Inside the command center, no one spoke. Everyone snapped into work mode. Chief of Staff Lana Sterling kept her eyes locked on the screen, the rattle of keyboards the only sound in her ears.

The keyboards stopped. "Reporting. Participant's name is Lyra Vance, female, twenty-two, from Everbright. Records show—" The officer broke off.

"What is it?" Lana frowned.

"Records show Lyra Vance was admitted to a psychiatric facility at age seven. She's never been discharged," a staffer reported.

Lana's frown deepened. "Seven? You're telling me she's been institutionalized for fifteen years? Never once left?"

"Correct, ma'am. After the nuclear war, her entire family died. No guardian ever came to sign her out," the staffer replied.

Lana ordered, "Pull every medical file she has."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Lana watched the chat skew uglier and turned to another aide. "Steer the public mood upward. And monitor the networks, anyone running her down, ban the account."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

*****

Back on the livestream, the chat was getting nasty.

RunForIt: [Folks, time to write your wills.]

BornToCuss: [Write your own damn will, dickhead!]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Draconia's luck is finished. If you've got the means, find a way out.]

BornToCuss: [Finished your ass. Find your mother.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Aurelia's accepting refugees. Catch: vassal status.]

GoDraconia: [Shut your mouth up there. Traitor.]

BornToCuss: [Accept your ass.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [I'm not wrong though. Look at Aurelia — they drew a special-forces operative. Look at us? A mental patient? (Message failed to send.)]

LuckyKoi: [She moved. She moved.]

On the screen, Lyra finally took a step. She wasn't running, she walked slowly toward the door, trailing her hand along the wall as she went.

She drifted into Rose Manor that way. Once inside, she found shards of broken mirror scattered across the ground. She picked up a piece. The girl in the reflection had a thin face that made her eyes look enormous, with dark shadows beneath them.

That washed-out, blue-tinged pallor that came from years without sunlight.

She replayed that mechanical announcement in her head, twice over.

Hide-and-seek. Wraiths. Three hours. Death.

She drew in a deep breath. The air carried the scent of roses. Roses, trees, fountains, statues, the manor itself.

This was real.

Not the white walls, white lights, white ceilings of the ward. Not the scheduled pills or the orderlies' blank-faced check-ins. Not the restraints that had pinned her to the bed. No bite of disinfectant in the air.

The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched up. Then twitched again. Then she couldn't hold it back, she dropped into a crouch, wrapped her arms around her knees, curled herself into a ball, and her shoulders began to shake.

The chat assumed she was crying.

momo: [Yeah... honestly, who wouldn't be terrified?]

GoDraconia: [Don't cry, sweetheart. Find somewhere to hide. You might just make it through.]

NutrientGooSucks: [Poor girl. Only twenty-two.]

BornToCuss: [Anyone fighting for this country deserves respect! One more person talks shit and I'll show you what generations of trash-talk can really do.]

The next second, the girl curled on the ground tilted her head up. She was laughing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard. She tipped backward and lay flat on the broken glass, the back of her hospital gown smudging with dust and grit. She didn't care. Her wild laughter rang out, loud enough to fill the empty manor.

The sound echoed across the open grounds, and other players' hearts jumped, they thought the Wraiths had arrived early.

The chat went dead silent.

Lyra lay on the ground, arms spread wide, staring up at blue sky and white clouds.

"I'm out," she murmured.

Then she shot upright, the laughter not quite wiped from her face, her eyes still red. "Ha. Wraiths or no Wraiths — who cares. I'm finally out."

Lyra pushed herself up, dusted off her backside, and shuffled deeper into the manor in her slippers.

Twenty-three minutes left on the countdown.

A few steps in, she stopped abruptly, tilted her head as if watching something — except there was nothing there. Only a wall.

She stared at the wall, thoughtful. "So you're already here."

Inside the command center, Lana stared at the screen, studying the young woman's reaction.

The countdown kept ticking.

[22:19]

The Wraiths weren't supposed to enter for another twenty-two minutes. So who exactly was she talking to?

Chapter 2 How Did She Know?

Lyra didn't look at the wall again. She turned and strolled deeper into Rose Manor, humming a tuneless little song.

Her fingers brushed the red roses along the path. She plucked one and tucked it behind her ear — easy, natural, like a girl wandering her own garden instead of a deadly Wraith zone.

The chat exploded all over again.

WhenWillTheyDie: [What is she even doing? Has she completely lost it?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Am I seeing this right? She's picking flowers to accessorize herself?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Yeah, she's full-on psychotic. I don't think she even understands what this game is.]

GoDraconia: [Everyone, start prepping now. Pack up essentials. If she really gets caught, head straight for the evacuation points the moment the game ends and the invasion zone is announced. Remember: we only get fifteen minutes.]

momo: [Got it. Twenty-two evacuations in, we know the drill.]

LuckyKoi: [I've got a strong feeling she's going to pass this game.]

Inside the command center, the main screen flickered. Lana's eyes were locked on the feed.

"Ma'am, pulling the player's records is harder than we thought." The technician's fingers flew across the keyboard, a thin sweat beading on his forehead. "Everything before age seven is blank. Her medical files after that were lost when the nuclear war damaged the databases."

"What about the last month or so?" Lana asked.

"That part's intact." The tech pulled up a page, his tone turning odd. "Her doctors noted that Lyra liked to mutter to herself in the corner of her room, and would sometimes crouch in the courtyard talking to the grass. They classified it as textbook psychiatric symptoms."

Lana's brows drew tight. Her knuckles tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm.

"Did she ever try to escape?" Lana asked.

The tech blinked, then flipped through the file. "Three times. But she only ever made it as far as the front gate before the orderlies brought her back."

"Why didn't she keep going?" Lana asked.

The tech answered, "Because she just stopped at the gate. Sat on the curb watching the sunset until the orderlies came for her. Never put up a fight. No one knows why."

Lana mulled it over for a beat, then waved at the assistant behind her. "Send a team to that psychiatric hospital right now. Seal every paper file and every byte of data they have. Interview the doctors. And if — I mean if — she lives through this round, bring her straight to the command center."

An assistant replied, "Yes, ma'am."

On the other side of the room, the think tank was already deep in argument.

"The data says she has zero survival skills. Her behavior says she lacks even basic caution."

"Based on her profile, I don't think she actually understands the game. I recommend opening the comm channel right now and briefing her before the Wraiths spawn."

"Absolutely not. Briefing her now eats up her hiding window, and we only get one comm window per round. We have to save it for the critical moment."

"And this isn't critical? If she doesn't even know she's in danger — if she mistakes a Wraith for a regular person and walks up to say hello — will your warning come in time then?"

"Every past round shows that warning our player when the Wraiths are closing in, and telling them to move, gives the best survival odds."

"This case is different!"

"Maybe we've all been underestimating her." A white-haired elderly woman cut in. "She's been locked in that psychiatric hospital for fifteen years. Rules, restraints, isolation, torture to most people. But to a patient like her, it may be the most familiar survival environment there is."

"You're saying she might find this place more comfortable than the real world?"

"Watch."

On the monitor, Lyra had already wandered into a European-style villa. Across the split-screen feeds, the other contestants' situations were on full display.

A contestant from a Southeast nation was crammed inside a kitchen cabinet, both hands clamped over his mouth, body shaking violently with terror.

A Western contestant was wedged under a sofa, eyes bloodshot, knuckles white around a steak knife. The slightest sound and he'd come out swinging.

Fear was the common thread.

Only Lyra was up on the third floor, ransacking a bedroom.

She kicked off the clunky old slippers and pulled a pair of black leather shoes from the closet. She slipped them on and tapped a foot against the floorboards. Too loud.

She frowned, peeled them off, and barefoot, dug out a pair of soft house shoes instead. She nodded to herself, satisfied, and headed for the balcony.

Lyra didn't hide in a closet, under a bed, or inside a car like the others. She walked to the edge of the balcony and picked out a chest-high planter. From the front, the blooming roses blocked her completely — and from this angle, she could see the entire main courtyard.

Viewers in the stream were stunned speechless.

momo: [Is that the third-floor balcony? In the open like that??]

WhenWillTheyDie: [She's basically begging to die. The Wraiths always sweep the main building first. She should be in a side wing or the basement.]

NeverAteVeggies: [What is going through this woman's head? Hide already. Under the bed. Or back in the closet where she found the shoes.]

BornToCuss: [Shut up. From the front, the roses cover her completely. The angle is solid. As long as the Wraiths don't come out onto the balcony, she stays invisible.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Wraiths skipping the main-building balcony — yeah, sure, I'll believe that one.]

BornToCuss: [Don't forget. We still have one comm window left. When the Wraiths reach the main building, we tell her to switch positions. Still a real chance.]

EmigrationComplete: [Ha, suckers, you actually banned my old account? I'm an Aurelian citizen now, you can't touch me.]

EmigrationComplete: [Move over to our Aurelia stream, people. John's a genius. He popped a car hood and crawled inside the engine bay. The Wraiths always focus on trunks and cabins, so he's locked in this round.]

BornToCuss: [Get lost, you traitor. Hope your father rots.]

Lyra had no idea about the war raging online. She stood behind the roses, staring through a gap in the petals, eyes fixed on that wall. Behind it was a chamber holding ten 'people' in dark red uniforms.

Their skin was an eerie ash-blue. No ears. No pupils. They gripped rust-eaten long-handled scythes, and every so often they slammed the weapons against the wall.

Lyra lowered her lashes, fingers unconsciously digging into the railing, leaving thin pale scratches in the paint.

"Ten of them. Identical attack range, identical damage. Five-second cooldown between strikes. They walk about as fast as a normal person. They can jump — about half again as high as a human."

"These so-called Wraiths feel kind of weak, actually. Not as formidable as Red back at the hospital. Hmm. Not sure yet. Let me keep watching."

"They're about five hundred meters out, straight line." Her voice was barely a whisper, but the game still caught it. "At their pace, a direct charge takes three minutes."

"A proper sweep would take at least an hour."

"Plenty of time for me to study them."

That nameless little smile tugged at her lips again. She plucked another rose and started slowly tearing off the petals.

In the command center, Lana listened to Lyra's quiet running commentary and turned to the think tank in disbelief.

"How does she know any of this?" Lana asked. "Could she have watched the live feeds back at the hospital? Could she have known about this already?"

No one had an answer. They could only wait for word from the team at the hospital.

"Ms. Reed, you may have been right. We've all been underestimating her," one of the think tank members said to the elder.

Lyra leaned against the railing behind the planter, no longer watching the wall. Instead, she scanned the main courtyard with idle curiosity.

The contestants from other countries were still scrambling like maniacs for blind spots.

"So slow," Lyra muttered.

Suddenly, the mechanical voice cracked across the sky above Rose Manor again, sharp enough to make ears ache.

[Countdown: 00:01]

[Thirty minutes have elapsed.]

[The Hunters are now entering the field.]

[Players — we wish you... a pleasant death.]

Chapter 3 The Hunters Enter

The instant the voice cut out, every contestant slowed their breathing. Outside the game, viewers all over the world held theirs.

The wall Lyra had been studying so closely shattered. Ten Wraiths stood revealed. They lifted their heads in perfect unison, exposing their pupil-less eyes, and surged forward.

Lyra stood on the third-floor balcony, watching through the gaps in the rose vines. She counted under her breath. "One. Two. Three."

The lead Wraith raised an arm, the long scythe pointing east.

To the east lay a rose garden and a flower hall, and two of the Wraiths peeled off in that direction.

The lead Wraith pointed west next — a mirror layout with another garden and hall — and two more split off that way.

Two more headed for the back fountain and wine cellar, two for the cluster of statues at the center of the courtyard. The last pair walked straight toward the main building Lyra was in.

"No carpet sweep. First round targets the main structures, ground floor first."

She glanced again at the two Wraiths in the courtyard. "They're going for any space that could hide a person. The second the weapon cooldown ends, they swing — blind or not."

"Aaah!" A contestant tucked inside the hollow belly of one of the statues let out a single scream and died on the spot.

"A blind hit still kills. So the weapon is the real key."

Lyra frowned at the scene. Apart from the creepy look and the scythes, these Wraiths weren't actually all that... wraithlike. So why call them Wraiths? Can't tell yet. Keep watching.

"See anything?" At the Draconia Strategic Game Command Center, Lana straightened and turned to the think tank.

"She's too calm. Too sharp. And almost..." one of them ventured uncertainly, "almost disappointed?"

Silence rolled through the room. From the moment she'd entered, to choosing her spot, to studying the Wraiths — the girl hadn't shown a flicker of fear.

Lana ordered, "Pull up screen three. Keep eyes on Lyra and on the two Wraiths inside the main building. The instant they head upstairs, contact her."

The main feed switched instantly.

Lana stared at Lyra's dedicated panel. The girl on screen still stood behind the planter.

On the livestream, the chat scrolled at peak speed.

EmigrationComplete: [See that? John already slowed his breathing to four per minute! THAT'S professional!]

BornToCuss: [Professional my ass. Quit shilling for them, traitor — go back to your own feed.]

LuckyKoi: [Lyra picked a great spot. Given the map and Wraith distribution, barring a random twitch from one of them, she's safe there for at least 30 minutes.]

NeverAteVeggies: [I don't see an ounce of tension in this girl. She's actually analyzing them like it's nothing. Maybe she really will surprise us.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Look at feed 18 — that Southeast Asian player just got spotted.]

On screen, a thin man tumbled out of the bushes in the east garden.

He let out a scream — alive, somehow — spun around, and bolted in the opposite direction.

The two Wraiths behind him lit up with excitement. One swung its long scythe.

The blade tore through the air with a short shriek. The hook caught his legs and slammed him face-first into the mud.

He clawed at the dirt, dragging himself forward, leaving ten deep furrows behind him.

The red-uniformed Wraith stepped up. The scythe rose. Fell.

The man's scream cut out.

The chat went briefly blank, then erupted in a tidal wave.

WhenWillTheyDie: [Dead... that's it? Just dead?]

DontHitMe: [Standard. So far, almost no one survives once they've been spotted.]

SawatdeeKa: [Aaaaaaah. Another loss. Our country was already down to its last five districts. Who knows which one will be invaded this time?]

Anu: [Sob sob sob Start packing, get to the evac points.]

Mehdar: [I don't want to run anymore. After this we'll only have four districts left. How much longer can we hold?]

AsIf: [Don't give up. Right now Ursaria has the most districts left, then Aurelia. I heard our country is already in talks with both about full-population emigration. As long as we're alive, there's hope.]

NorthernExile: [Right. My country's already gone. But the moment we lost our last district, the whole population emigrated out.]

GoDraconia: [Draconian viewers, stop watching over there. Look at Lyra. She's about to do something.]

Lyra had seen the whole thing, and her face lit up like she'd just discovered a new continent. She stepped forward and leaned against the railing.

Ha. So getting spotted by a Wraith doesn't kill you. Only being killed by one counts as elimination.

She stopped bothering to hide her body, leaning over the rail to look down. On either side, the Wraiths kept smashing things at random.

"So you don't use smell, or hearing, or any creepy power," Lyra murmured to herself. "Just luck and eyesight."

She fished a shard of broken mirror out of her pocket — the one she'd picked up on the way into the realm.

Tilting her wrist, she caught the sunlight and threw a bright spot down onto one of the Wraiths in the courtyard.

The dot landed square on the red uniform. The Wraith didn't react at all, just kept swinging its scythe blindly.

"Not sensitive to light either."

She tucked the mirror away, walked back through the third-floor bedroom, and headed down to a room on the second floor — left side.

It was a small dining room. In the middle sat a long wooden table covered with fruit, cake, and drinks.

Predictably, the chat exploded.

SoAnnoying: [What is she doing? What is she doing? Can she just hide quietly?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Why hasn't her country contacted her yet? Get on the line already.]

EmigrationSuccess: [Serves her right. You reap what you sow.]

BornToCuss: [Reap your ass.]

LuckyKoi: [Good news, she's not hunting the Wraiths. Bad news, she went down to the second floor. She's even closer to them now.]

Lyra dragged a chair out without a care, sat down, and started picking out her favorites.

Hehe, so good. Those rotten doctors and nurses hadn't given her real food in forever. She was going to eat plenty this time.

NeverAteVeggies: [AAAAHHH. How dare she? What if it's contaminated?]

NeverAteMeat: [What if... what if the food in these realms is actually fine to eat?]

NeverAteFruit: [So far no player has ever dared touch the food in a realm.]

LuckyKoi: [But she looks so happy eating it.]

Grrrr—

Grrrr—

Stomach growls broke out one after another. The players hiding in this room had been holding their breath, sure at first that a Wraith had come upstairs, but no crashing followed for a long stretch.

A contestant from the Southern Reach couldn't help herself. She peeked through a gap in the fireplace and saw a girl sitting at the long table, eating as if no one else existed — no fear, no panic at all.

She looked young. Long dark hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, a few stray strands brushing her flawless cheek and making her face all the more delicate.

From the floor below came the sounds of destruction, of contestants dying horrible deaths — and up here, this girl was eating like she was at a Sunday brunch. This...

Chapter 4 The Game Has Comms?

Lyra was focused on the slice of cream cake on her plate.

The cream slid down her throat, sweet and rich, and she narrowed her eyes, savoring a taste she hadn't had in forever.

Back at the psychiatric hospital, maybe because Mom and Dad had stopped coming to see her, the doctors had switched all her food to nutrient fluid. Hmph!

The iron door of the fireplace shifted. A faint scrape carried through the quiet room.

Lyra didn't stop. She popped another piece of cake into her mouth.

"Hey..." the girl whispered from the fireplace.

The voice was tiny and trembling, squeezed out through the fireplace gap.

Lyra turned her head and met a pair of eyes wide with terror.

Crouched behind the fireplace was a foreign-looking girl, face streaked with soot, hair a tangled mess threaded with cobwebs.

"You're... a Draconian player?" the girl forced out in stilted Draconian.

Lyra nodded and gave a muffled hum around her mouthful. "Mm."

The girl blurted, "You can't eat that."

The girl panicked, her voice rising — then her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide as she strained to listen for sounds outside.

A heavy thud landed on wooden floorboards downstairs.

"The stuff in here... it's contaminated. You'll die if you eat it!" the girl whispered urgently, eyes desperate.

Lyra ignored her. She picked up a red apple, wiped it on the sleeve of her hospital gown, and bit into it.

Crunch. Clear and crisp.

Lyra said, "Sweet. Crunchy."

Lyra lifted the apple and waggled it toward the fireplace. "You want some?"

The girl stared at her like she was some kind of monster and shrank deeper into the fireplace.

The girl urged, "Are you insane? Get into hiding."

The girl said, "I'm a player from Southern Reach. My name is Lina."

Lina urged, "Our country and yours are allies. I swear I'm not lying. Hurry, get into the cabinet."

Lina was so frantic she was about to cry. Clearly she had never met a contestant with nerves this steady.

Lyra swallowed her bite of fruit, took another, and only then answered, slow and unbothered.

Lyra answered, "Hide in a cabinet? That's just gift-wrapping yourself. None of the cabinets are safe."

The words sent a shiver through Lina, and the color drained from her face.

Grrrowl. An ill-timed sound cut through the air. Lina's stomach was protesting, painfully audible in the quiet dining room. She lowered her head, mortified, and pressed a hand to her belly.

Lyra smiled, picked up an untouched apple from the table, and tossed it lightly. It arced through the air and rolled to a stop right in front of Lina's fireplace. "Go ahead. It's not poisoned."

Lina stared at the bright red fruit, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.

She hadn't tasted real food in over a decade. Ever since the nuclear war, the world had been a scorched ruin. Food? That was a luxury. Just being alive, with one packet of nutrient goo a day, was a blessing.

Even as her mouth flooded with saliva, reason told her everything inside this instance was laced with malice.

"I... I can't eat it," Lina forced out, then pointed at a heavy mahogany cabinet in the corner. "Get over there, quick. I already checked. It has a hidden compartment."

Lyra glanced at the cabinet and shook her head. "They'd find you there too."

"And that fireplace of yours is staring straight at the door. One Wraith walks in, gives one swing, and you're dead, dead, dead." Lyra grinned as she said it.

"D-don't scare me." Lina stammered, trembling.

She was already teetering on the edge, and Lyra's words made a chill crawl up the back of her neck.

Lyra shrugged, set down her fork, strolled to the window, and pointed at the ledge outside. "You'd be better off out there than in there."

Lina's eyes went wide as she peered through the crack. This was the second floor. Outside there was no cover at all—just a stone ledge less than four inches wide.

"How are you supposed to hide outside a window? That's suicide!" Lina hissed.

Lyra didn't answer. The corner of her mouth curved up in a soft arc. She thought this Southern Reach girl was a little slow, but kind of fun. Her stomach was full anyway. Time to stretch her legs.

"Watch this."

Lyra hooked a finger around the latch and flicked it open.

The window swung open without a sound, letting in a cool breeze sweet with the scent of roses from the garden. She braced against the frame, light as a cat, planted her toes on the sill, and swung herself clear over the wall.

Lina held her breath, a scream almost tearing loose.

Lyra reached back and eased the window shut. She pressed flat against the gray-white exterior wall, toes balanced on that narrow ridge. From inside the room, anyone looking would only see an empty sill.

A few seconds later, the window slid open again and Lyra hopped lightly back into the room.

"Well?" She dusted off her hands, grinning. "Beats your fireplace, doesn't it? Want to come hide out there with me?"

Lina froze. Before she could answer, Lyra's expression suddenly shifted.

Lyra raised her right hand and touched her ear. A faint crackle of static hummed against her eardrum.

Lana said, "Lyra, can you hear me? This is the Draconia Strategic Game Command Center. I'm Lana Sterling, the director in charge."

Lyra tilted her head. "I hear you. How are you talking right next to my ear like that?"

At the command center, Lana stared at the giant screen, briefly thrown by the question. But this wasn't the moment to explain.

Lana said, "Listen. The three rooms on the first floor are nearly destroyed. The Wraiths from the courtyard, the parlor, and the back garden are all converging on the main building. In about three minutes, all ten of them will be on the second floor."

Lana continued, "The third floor and basement are still clear. On the first floor, the game room's southwest corner has a recessed safe spot. The second floor also has an exterior corridor. If you reach the third floor, you can evacuate through it."

Lana spoke at breakneck speed, the clatter of keyboards filling the background.

Lyra looked down at the half-eaten plate of cake and sighed.

Lyra said, "Evacuate? I haven't finished my snack yet."

"Lyra. They're almost there. For your own safety, for Draconia. Move, now." Lana pressed.

Lyra didn't budge. She simply cut the one-way comm, and the noise in her ear vanished.

She looked up at Lina.

Lina's eyes were vacant, her lips moving silently—clearly, Southern Reach's command center was on the line with her too.

A moment later, Lina cut the call and slumped back into the heap of ash.

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, carving two pale streaks down her grimy face.

"They said... the Wraiths are coming up. They said only three people on the first floor are still alive." Lina spoke to herself, her voice hollow with despair.

Lina said, "Southern Reach has only one region left. If I get caught, even that last patch of ground falls to the Wraiths. I'll have... no home to go back to."

Yes, Southern Reach had already worked out a full migration with Draconia. But it would always be living under someone else's roof. No premium nutrient goo could ever replace the smell of home soil.

Lyra walked over and crouched down in front of her.

Lyra said, "Two minutes before those red-coated freaks come up the stairs. You planning to sit here and die so the last scrap of your country turns to rubble? Or do you want to come out the window with me and catch some fresh air?"

Lina lifted her head, her heart pounding like thunder.

She didn't actually know if the fireplace was safe. But in the time she'd had, it was the safest spot she'd managed to find.

Outside the window? No player had ever tried that. The fireplace, on the other hand, had been tested again and again. And almost always ended in death.

She gritted her teeth and crawled out of the fireplace, smeared head to toe in black soot, looking thoroughly wrecked. "I'm coming with you."

Just then, Lyra's gaze dropped through the floorboards. She could see them clearly—the Wraiths were gathering in the main hall.

The eight that had been scattered through the gardens had come inside, and the original two were closing in from both ends of the long corridor.

Lyra said, "Hurry. They're here."

Lyra pulled the window open and slipped out first, the motion clean and effortless.

Lina followed close behind. Her legs were shaking, but she dragged herself up onto the sill anyway.

Copying Lyra, she pressed her back to the wall and gripped the edge with her toes for dear life.

"Give me your hand." Lyra reached out and locked her fingers around Lina's wrist.

Lina held on tight. Lyra's palm felt cool, but her grip was rock steady.

With her other hand, Lyra slowly drew the window shut.

The faint click of the latch was buried under the chaotic footsteps spilling through the hallway. The instant the window fully shut, the small dining room's door blasted open under the force of a massive blow.

Chapter 5 What's That Glowing Thing?

The wooden door slammed against the wall with a deafening crack. Three Wraiths stalked inside, their hooked scythes scraping along the floorboards with a sound that crawled up the spine.

"Whack."

"Bang."

"Thud."

"AAAAHHH."

Just as Lyra had predicted, the fireplace directly across from the door took the first hit. Along with the storage cabinets flanking it. A player hiding inside one was cleaved clean in half.

Lina dangled outside the window with her eyes squeezed shut, not daring to breathe. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her throat. Lyra, on the other hand, kept her eyes wide open, studying the Wraiths through the glass.

One Wraith hoisted its long-handled scythe again and brought it down on the dining table with brutal force.

"Crash."

The fine wooden table shattered in an instant. Cake, fruit, and wine sprayed everywhere; a shard of broken porcelain struck the window with a sharp clink.

Lina jerked in panic and nearly lost her grip. Lyra snapped her grip tight around Lina's wrist and yanked her back.

"Shh..." Lyra pressed a finger to her lips.

Behind the glass, the Wraith seemed to take a sick pleasure in the destruction. It swung its scythe wildly through the cramped dining room, and now and then another scream tore through the air.

The reek of blood thickened. More and more red splattered across the window. At this rate, the whole room would be reduced to rubble in minutes.

Luckily, the Wraiths focused on the places people could hide—cabinets, fireplace, under the table. No one would ever guess two girls were clinging to the sheer vertical wall outside, with almost nothing to grip.

Watching them, Lyra felt her theory confirmed again. Just as she'd thought. The Wraiths could smash through furniture, but they couldn't break through walls.

In the livestream, viewers from Draconia were holding their breath.

BornToCuss: [Holy crap... that kind of nerve? I'm calling her a goddess.]

LuckyKoi: [Look at Lina's face. White as a sheet. She's only holding on because Lyra's got her.]

EmigrationComplete: [This is suicide. All it takes is one Wraith opening that window and they're toast.]

BornToCuss: [Go die yourself, traitor. Get lost. Like we don't know what the price of emigration is.]

NeverAteVeggies: [This clown keeps begging to be roasted. Once you emigrate, go scream in your own stream, yeah?]

GoDraconia: [I just checked the records—good news. Across every match so far, no Wraith has ever opened a window.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Wait, so does that mean we've actually got a real shot this time?]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. As long as Lyra can hold out there for 2 hours, 31 minutes, 49 seconds.]

In the command center, Lana's fist tightened. Her eyes were locked on Lyra's calm face on the screen. This kind of extreme hiding strategy hadn't appeared in a single tactical simulation. But it was brilliant.

"R-report, Chief of Staff." A technician spoke up, his voice shaking. "According to the historical records, we can confirm, no Wraith has ever opened a window. Lyra... she's found a bug!"

The command center fell silent for one heartbeat. Then it erupted.

"This is amazing. If this method holds up, we may never lose another match again!"

"It's basically a confirmed safe zone."

"Document everything. This match matters. If she actually pulls it off, we might even reclaim the territories we've lost!"

"Yes, ma'am."

On screen, the ten Wraiths tore through the furniture like maniacs. Lina hung outside, feeling every shudder of impact ripple through her bones—each strike like a blow to her soul.

She couldn't feel her legs anymore. She just clung to Lyra's hand, mind a complete blank.

"Help me." Another player's cry rang out from inside the room.

Exposed in the Wraiths' line of sight, he scrambled and stumbled toward the very window Lyra was hanging outside of.

BornToCuss: [Get lost, you brat!]

AnotherDayAlive: [Get lost, you brat!]

DontHitMe: [Get lost, you brat.]

The chat exploded with the same line over and over. Every viewer's stomach dropped.

"Bang."

The instant his hand brushed the window, the weapon behind him struck. He was sliced clean in half at the waist. The window caught the edge of it, and a crack split across the glass.

TA. TA. TA. The Wraith dragged its weapon toward the window.

Lina's heart slammed against her ribs. She turned to look at Lyra—who only flashed a small smile, still showing not a flicker of fear.

The Wraith reached the window, prodded the corpse with its weapon, then turned and walked away.

Lina let out a long breath and sagged against the wall, drenched as if she'd been pulled from a river, gulping down fresh air. "Is... is it gone?"

AnotherDayAlive: [Phew, that nearly killed me. This floor is finally cleared, the Wraiths are heading up to the third floor. They're safe for now.]

LuckyKoi: Thank god, two hours left, and the third floor takes at least thirty minutes to sweep, so we've got a thirty-minute safety window.

BornToCuss: [Couldn't that brat have died somewhere else? Got himself spotted AND almost dragged our player down with him. Ugh.]

DontHitMe: [They're down to seven regions. Lose another one and I bet they're already negotiating full emigration with their patron.]

GoDraconia: [Why's Lyra gone quiet? What is she looking at?]

Lyra hadn't answered Lina. Her gaze was fixed on the courtyard below—where a glowing box had just appeared out of nowhere.

What is that? She was certain of it. That thing hadn't been there before.

"Stay right here. Don't move. I'm going to check it out."

Lyra guided Lina's hand to the crack in the window, and before Lina could even react, she turned and nimbly started climbing down.

Watching Lyra's movement on the main screen, Lana turned to the others. "What is that?"

"We don't know. In the previous forty-three matches, players almost always stayed in one hiding spot. At most they shifted when their country contacted them. So this is the first time we've ever seen one of those."

"It appeared at exactly one hour in. Right on the mark."

"Could it be intel about clearing the game?"

"Or something about the game's mechanics?"

"Possibly. Look, she's already got it."

Lyra reached the box, saw there was no lock, and flipped it open without a second thought. Inside swirled a wisp of cyan light, and the moment the lid lifted, the System's voice chimed.

[Key item detected: Veilmist!]

[Effect: Invisibility for 15 seconds. Wraiths cannot see or touch you, but weapon strikes can still cause damage. Cooldown: 15 minutes.]

[Use now?]

"Use it!"

The words had barely left her mouth before the cyan light shot into her forehead.

Lyra shook her head. No side effects, but she knew she'd just picked up a new trick. Invisibility. "Hehe, this is fun." She turned back toward the main building, and this time she didn't climb the wall. She strolled up the stairs at her own pace.

Chapter 6 Lyra's Test

Back on the second floor, her soft house slippers padding silently across the floor, Lyra pushed open the dining room window.

Lina was still hanging there in the exact same pose. One hand white-knuckled on the crack in the window, the other clinging to the wall.

The moment she saw Lyra's head pop up, the tears spilled over.

"You... you came back?" Lina whispered, her voice trembling like a leaf, but she carefully eased her grip on the window to make room.

Lyra's eyes curved into a smile. "You really planning to dangle there the whole time? There's over an hour left. Not coming in for a break?"

"N-no... I'm fine, I can hold on." Lina stammered. "Do... do you need a rest?"

"No, no rush. I've got something else to do." Lyra didn't bother explaining. She shut the window again and started straight for the door.

Lina nearly jumped out of her skin and hissed after her,

"Get back here. They're on the third floor right now. Once they finish up there, they'll come right back down."

"That's exactly where I'm going." Lyra didn't even turn her head as she walked out.

Inside the livestream, Draconia's viewers nearly stroked out on the spot.

WhenWillTheyDie: [She's lost it. She's totally lost it.]

AnotherDayAlive: [We finally found a perfect glitch spot outside the window. Can't she just camp there till the end?]

NeverAteVeggies: [What was in that chest? There was a cloud of cyan mist inside. Could the mist be doing something to her?]

DontHitMe: [You mean... contamination?]

BigBrain: [Or it could be a buff.]

BornToCuss: [Girl, I am BEGGING you, go back and eat your cake, please?]

LuckyKoi: [The food's been smashed to bits by the Wraiths. How is she supposed to eat that?]

GoDraconia: [I'm not picky. If any of it's still edible, throw it in MY mouth.]

Inside the command center, Lana's eyes were locked on the main screen. Onscreen, Lyra was hugging the stair railing, crouched low as she crept upward.

The instant she rounded onto the third-floor landing, a red-uniformed Wraith began to turn its head.

"Don't move." Lana cried out involuntarily, terrified the Wraith would spot her.

But Lyra, as if she'd known all along, ducked sideways into a wall alcove a split second before the Wraith turned. The alcove held a waist-high plaster bust, and crouched behind it, she was completely hidden from view.

The Wraith dragged its heavy hooked scythe behind it, the iron edge scraping across the marble floor.

Skreeeeech—

The piercing sound made plenty of viewers slap their hands over their ears.

The Wraith noticed nothing. It swayed onward, heading for the third-floor terrace.

Lyra slipped out from behind the bust. And instead of fleeing, she pressed forward, following it.

"Ms. Reed, look at what she's doing." Lana pointed at the split screen, disbelief threading through her voice.

The older woman called Ms. Reed pulled off her reading glasses and squinted at the feed.

"She's holding a steady distance.

"Every time the Wraith stops, she stops. When it speeds up, so does she.

"She's testing their perception range. And not just on one of them."

Onscreen, Lyra picked up a splinter of wood that had been shaken loose earlier and lobbed it gently to the left.

*Tap.*

The wood struck the corner with a crisp sound. But the Wraith didn't so much as twitch.

"So they really don't have ears. They can't hear a thing," Lyra murmured thoughtfully.

And those eyes—no pupils, just white. What would something like that even see? Staying just out of its sightline, she circled around to one Wraith's flank, keeping a careful buffer.

She picked up another chunk of wood and flicked it toward the Wraith.

The Wraith ten feet away whipped sideways, its hooked scythe carving a red arc through the air.

The wood shattered into splinters mid-flight, and a cabinet behind it was sliced open with a horrifying gash.

Lyra took two steps back, slipped around a doorframe, and headed off the other way.

"Attack range, about ten feet across. Field of vision, roughly two-seventy degrees," she muttered as she walked—her voice barely above a breath, yet it carried crystal-clear into the command center.

The think tank stared at one another, stunned.

"She's not playing hide-and-seek... she's reverse-engineering the whole dungeon."

"With nerves like that, she's really just some psych patient?"

"Quick—log every data point she just gave us!"

By now the chat had shifted from cursing her out to nothing but a wall of question marks.

LuckyKoi: [Am I seeing things? Did she just MESS with a Wraith?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Ten feet. She said the attack range is ten feet.]

GoDraconia: [Don't tell me that chest gave her a special ability?]

LongLiveLyra: [Sob sob LONG LIVE THE QUEEN.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Switch to the Aurelia feed. The Wraiths went down to the parking garage. Tons of players are dead. Even John's car got hit—he's still alive, though.]

"AAH."

"AAAH."

"AAAAH."

The instant viewers flipped over to the Aurelia feed, scream after scream came pouring out. Almost no car had been spared.

Onscreen, a special-forces soldier named John was wedged inside the engine compartment of a jeep. He'd ripped out the air filter and curled himself into the tiny space, leaving only a small hole to breathe through.

The unlucky part: the jeep had already been cleaved in two. The lucky part: the front half was still intact.

The screams hammering his ears sent his heart racing. One hour eighteen minutes left—I can do this. He kept pumping himself up.

One hour ten.

One hour six.

One hour three.

Some of the Wraiths had already started filing out of the garage. Aurelia's chat erupted with cheers.

EmigrationComplete: [John's a BEAST!]

RisingEmpire: [Hell yeah!]

Judith: [Way to go, brother.]

GodBless: [We won, we won. Aurelia takes another one.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Friendly reminder—popping champagne at halftime is the ultimate jinx.]

The words had barely posted when the last Wraith bringing up the rear. Its weapon cooldown finishing right at that second—lifted its long hooked scythe and drove it straight down into the hood of the car beside it.

*SCHLUCK.*

Warm blood trickled out through the headlights.

A single short scream, and then nothing.

[Announcement: Aurelia player John has been captured. Confirmed dead.]

The livestream fell into a brief, dead silence.

AureliaIsGuilty: [What did I just say?]

BornToCuss: [@EmigrationComplete, speak up. Your golden boy died inside a tin can!]

DontHitMe: [@EmigrationComplete, speak up. Your golden boy died inside a tin can.]

momo: [@EmigrationComplete, speak up. Your golden boy died inside a tin can.]

NeverAteMeat: [Wasn't hiding in the engine block supposed to be a guaranteed win?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Real talk. That was just plain bad luck.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Forget them, let's watch our own player.]

Inside the command center, Lana wasn't looking at Aurelia's split screen. Her eyes stayed locked on Lyra's livestream.

"Report. We've got something," a technician suddenly called out.

"Speak," Lana ordered.

"There may have been a treasure chest in one of the earlier videos."

In the blurry footage, in the corner of an abandoned factory, a similar box really had appeared. But the player at the time had been too terrified to even look up.

"And that chest appeared exactly one hour into the round."

"Which means the chest is a key variable built into the instance. Only the ones brave enough to move around can find it."

Lana drew a deep breath and looked back at Lyra. At that moment, Lyra was strolling leisurely through the second-floor gallery, completely unbothered by the furniture the Wraiths had smashed to splinters.

She even sat down on a wrecked sofa, unwrapped a lollipop, and popped it into her mouth. "Hmm. Not as pretty as before."

She looked down at the courtyard, where the once-blooming roses had been hacked down to bare stubs by the Wraiths.

One hour left until the game ended.

All three floors of the main building, plus the basement, had been swept clean. The Wraiths began moving toward the wine cellar.

"Finally, some peace and quiet." Lyra hopped off the sofa and wandered through the empty main building.

She studied the oil paintings on the walls. The nobles in those portraits seemed to be staring at the "intruders" outside with horror in their eyes. "What are you looking at? Keep staring and I'll dig your eyeballs out." Lyra pulled a face at them.

Livestream chat.

momo: [I can't with her, I'm dying, is she on vacation?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Whatever, as long as she's safe, I'd happily watch her stare at oil paintings for an hour.]

Daru: [I'm a viewer from Southern Reach. Thank you to the Draconia player for helping us.]

GoDraconia: [Stay sharp! No popping champagne at halftime. Aurelia just showed us why. Wait till the round ends!]

[Countdown: 30 minutes.]

The Wraiths emerged from the wine cellar. Fifteen players remained.

At that very moment, the air in the first-floor courtyard rippled. Golden particles converged in a flash, forming a chest even more ornate than the last one.

At the same time, as if receiving some kind of signal, the Wraiths suddenly accelerated. Ten pairs of pupil-less eyes locked onto the chest at the center of the courtyard.

"Damn it." Lana shot to her feet.

"The Wraiths grab chests too?!"